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James'
beaten eyes find Janice's, “When I start seeing them.”
Janice
looked down at the broken old man with pity. “That's not fair. You
can't just read about bad news, look around a terrible city and
pretend the whole world is like this. You're a good man. I think I'm
a pretty good person. And that's already two people in this store
alone. Think about the-”
Pop.
Pop.
Pop. Pop.
Like
firecrackers that were set off on July 3rd,
the four gunshots rang out and quieted the city. In the diner, all
were on the floor taking cover: the abused woman and her boyfriend,
the old homeless woman, the prostitute alone under her table, and
the once distant family now brought together in panic.
There
was an eerie silence that seemed to spread far beyond the glass door,
leaking out into the streets of New York City. After a few more
moments of this uncomfortable hush, James Parker gingerly got to his
feet and told a crying Janice to head for the back.
Slowly
and carefully, the old man made his way for the door keeping an eye
on the street for any more danger. When he reached the door it seemed
like the shooter had fled. People have already started to slow their
runs into walks. Cell phones and suspicious looks appeared like
unwanted pimples.
By
the crosswalk James Parker journeyed earlier lay the body of a
familiar dopefiend. The same dopefiend that had argued with the
dopeman.
It
was clear he was shot; there was blood running from his chest but
more tellingly was the absence of the back of this dopefiend's head.
James closed his eyes and tried to chase away the haunting image.
When
the old man reopened his eyes they betrayed him and refocused on
something he had not expected.
Not
more than ten feet from the dead dopefiend lay another figure on the
sidewalk- this one with an arm draped over the side of the curb. The
last time James Parker had felt this pain in his chest was when
Elaine had passed almost a decade earlier.
James
opened the door and slowly, gracefully, left the diner. It was the
body of a child, perhaps a girl; her long dark hair was laying flat
on the sidewalk with just enough of it out of order to hide the young
girl's face.
The
young girl, with the dark skin and dark hair. The young girl. With
the limp arm. The young girl with the blue dress stained purple from
the ruby red blood. He tried to run toward her, but his tired body would not let him and he fell to his knees four feet away from the dying Sonya.
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